


Mechanics & Sincerity

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Anal Play, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 06:38:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anatomy responds so mechanically.</p>
<p>Written for a kinkmeme prompt requesting asexual Holmes fingering Watson's ass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mechanics & Sincerity

Holmes still doesn't see the appeal of such base activities, even now that he has unabashedly admitted that he is in love with John Watson. As he curls his fingers up inside of the doctor, moving up and down slowly, the look on Watson’s face is enough to confirm beyond a shadow of a doubt that for some, at the very least, this is an extremely pleasurable activity. Anatomy responds so mechanically, as does the mind when thoroughly aroused, Holmes notes when Watson glances at him, silently begging for permission to touch his rigid member. Holmes nods and Watson doesn’t hesitate, gasping as he grips himself, beads of sweat rolling down his flushed face.

Watson is almost there, no more than ten seconds away, Holmes predicts. The detective leans in for a kiss and feels warmth swell within him as Watson’s lips crash against his hungrily. This is the epitome of enjoyable physical contact for Holmes, all affection and love without anything too sexual, and it seems fitting that he can experience it as Watson is reaching his climax, moaning against Holmes’ mouth as he orgasms.

After a sufficient pause to allow Watson to fully spend himself, Holmes pulls his fingers out and can’t help but think they will need a great deal of scrubbing before they are again fit for any other use. Still, he kisses Watson until the doctor pulls away just enough to whisper into Holmes’ ear. Thank you.

“It’s nothing,” Holmes replies softly, pressing his lips upon Watson’s forehead. He wants to point out that it’s just going through the motions for the most part, but he knows that would upset Watson, make it seem insincere, and so just this once, he censors himself. At least the passion with which their lips meet again as Watson wrapping his arms around Holmes’ still-clothed body, that eagerness is real.


End file.
